


To Know the Flaws and Love Them Too

by twitchtipthegnawer



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Gags, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 12:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19476349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer
Summary: Aziraphale loved a lot of things about Crowley. Some of them, like his determination and willingness to bend the rules, Crowley loved too. Most, however, he did not.





	To Know the Flaws and Love Them Too

On the one hand, it was a bit attractive when Crowley lost his temper and pinned Aziraphale to the wall, and growled about how he most certainly  _ wasn’t  _ “nice.” It made Aziraphale think about certain not-so-nice things he and Crowley might get up to in the future.

On the other, it was part of a worryingly long-standing habit Crowley had. Whenever Aziraphale wanted to compliment him, he would react with anything from discomfort to disgust.

“You smell lovely, did you get a new cologne - ”

“Stop sniffing me, you aren’t a puppy!”

“Yes, well, be that as it may. Speaking of puppies, I saw you petting that little chap down by the deli the other day. You even let him smell your hand first - ”

“Hey, now, don’t go  _ cooing  _ over me.  _ Eugh.” _

Aziraphale only wanted to tell his love how much he admired the dichotomy. The violence and the kindness, how soft Crowley could be at the most unexpected of times. But, even during sex, he was expected to keep his mouth shut about certain sorts of comments.

With how long they’d been acquainted, and how long they’d  _ be  _ acquainted after averting the apocalypse, of course Aziraphale was going to ask eventually. He wasn’t sure what sort of response he expected from Crowley, but it certainly  _ wasn’t _ what he got.

“Okay, look, if you wanna do this - this sweet-talking stuff, I can’t just - if I just  _ let  _ it happen, imagine what it’d do to my dignity.”

The two of them were sitting in Aziraphale’s newly-restored bookstore, sampling the beginnings of a rebuilt wine collection. To no one’s surprise, an eleven year old child from the middle of nowhere in England didn’t know particularly much about wine, and so Aziraphale was finding he had to search far and wide to find something which satisfied both his and Crowley’s pallette. In no small part, it was thanks to that wine that he did what he did next.

“What about if I force you, then?”

Crowley coughed, then hurriedly set his glass down on a table beside him. He nearly spilled the wine on a first-edition copy of  _ A Separate Peace,  _ which Aziraphale would be sad to see damaged, but he managed to save it at the last second. “How would you even begin to go about  _ forcing _ me to accept a compliment?”

“Well, for instance,” Aziraphale stood up, caught himself on the back of his chair when he wobbled, and then ducked his head beneath a writing desk sitting near the desk he actually used. “I could’ve sworn I had something somewhere…”

“Yes, you have quite a few things quite a few places. Is this something I can  _ help  _ you look for, my daft angel?”

“Aha!” Aziraphale lifted up a wooden box, then promptly proceeded to over-balance and tilt backwards. He found himself caught by one of Crowley’s lanky arms, and smiled up into yellow eyes. “Found it.”

“Oh, I know that box,” Crowley grinned, then his brow furrowed. “How would  _ that  _ help you with forcibly complimenting me?”

“Well, you see, the idea is,” Aziraphale opened the latch and drew out a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs. “If you’re kept still, then you’d have no choice but to sit there and suffer my attentions, wouldn’t you?”

_ “Please,  _ I would never agree to be bound in pink handcuffs, thank you very much. Can’t they be - I don’t know, leather? Or black, at the very least. I thought we were trying to  _ preserve  _ my Satan-forsaken dignity.”

“Wouldn’t it be God-forsaken? Oh, never mind.”

Rolling his eyes, Aziraphale made the handcuffs black via judicious use of precisely one miracle. No more, no less.

“What, you want to do it  _ right now?” _

“It isn’t as if we have anything else going on, have we?”

If this were the first time they’d had sex, or even the first time they’d used restraints, Aziraphale would’ve made them both sober up before proceeding. Luckily for Crowley’s nerves, this wasn’t the first, nor the fifth nor the tenth. In all likelihood, it was well past the thousandth, though Aziraphale hadn’t exactly been counting. So, when Crowley held his wrists out in front of him, Aziraphale could bind them together without hesitating.

Next, he pulled a black ball gag from the box. Crowley raised a single eyebrow, but opened his mouth easily enough. The silicone intrusion would have him drooling before long, but Aziraphale would be happy enough to kiss his lover clean.

“Part of me thinks a blindfold might help, as well,” Aziraphale mused. “But your eyes are so beautiful, and I don’t get to see them nearly enough.”

“Mmph!” Crowley protested, muffled, through the gag.

“And  _ that’s _ why I had you put  _ that _ on,” Aziraphale nodded. He looked rather self-satisfied.

Walking back to the couch, Crowley laid back as if to say,  _ do your worst.  _ There was certainly a challenge in his golden eyes, slit pupils gone wide and round when Aziraphale stood and began to unbutton his shirt. “I hardly know where to begin,” he admitted. “Oh, I mustn’t get stage fright now, of all times.”

Crowley was the one to roll his eyes, this time. It was a much more at-home expression on his face than on Aziraphale’s (he had, in fact, perfected the art of using his whole face to do so, thus allowing plebeians who had annoyed him to know when he was making fun of them, even if his sunglasses were on). Aziraphale couldn’t  _ not  _ kiss the bridge of his nose, when he saw that so-familiar expression.

“I love how you act so high-and-mighty,” Aziraphale damn near cooed. Crowley huffed through his nose, but couldn’t interrupt given his situation, so Aziraphale shrugged out of his over-shirt and pushed up the red t-shirt Crowley was wearing. “Even though you’re really rather easy to rile up, for someone who knows what they’re doing.”

A sharp inhale rewarded Aziraphale when his fingertips brushed Crowley’s navel. He smiled, a little bit less than angelic. “I love that you’re such a receptive, generous lover. You always leave me feeling positively tippity-top, you know.

Also, I love that you tolerate when I say things like tippity-top, even though I know you don’t quite get them. Oh! And I love that I know exactly how loudly you’ll moan if I do  _ this.”  _ On his last word, Aziraphale leaned down and licked one of Crowley’s nipples. Just as he’d predicted, the demon arched his back a bit and groaned, though he sounded both pleased and irritated. Only Crowley could manage that, in Aziraphale’s experience.

Just to test, Crowley stroked both his hands over Aziraphale’s chest, but the angel pulled away. He wanted tonight to be about Crowley, and though he got a huff for it, the hands fell back down obediently. Without any argument, obviously.

Aziraphale pinched Crowley’s other nipple, then gave a firm suck to the one he’d been lapping at. Crowley groaned again, and when he leaned back this time, he was grinning.

“I love how your come tastes,” he said, calmly, casually. Crowley choked on his own spit.

Sweet touches turned lascivious as Aziraphale’s hands ran down Crowley’s ribs. “I love when you fuck me so hard I can’t walk in the morning. I love that your body is so thin and yet you have so much strength when you drive into me. I love that you can make me feel like I’m choking on your dick, and I love that you know I’m not too delicate to handle it.”

While he talked, Aziraphale worked on undoing Crowley’s belt and jeans. He left them around his thighs, tangling up his legs and further keeping him imobile. Once Crowley’s half-hard dick was freed, Aziraphale straddled him and licked his lips.

“You’re not delicate at all, either. I love that you’re so strong, that you could make it through a wall of impenetrable fire with nothing but your stubbornness.”

This particular compliment made Crowley snort; he seemed to be having an easier time handling them when he couldn’t actually fight against them. Most probably, it also helped that Aziraphale had licked his own hand and then wrapped it around Crowley’s dick, pumping it up and down very, very slowly.

“And afterwards,” Aziraphale continued. “When you and I traded places, I love that you know me well enough to fool everyone. All of those high and mighty angels just let you walk right into heaven, and then right back out again. And I love how much I can trust you, that I let you pretend to be me, and you didn’t take advantage of it at all.”

Instantly, Crowley went from languidly enjoying the pleasure, to  _ frozen. _

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed.

Bucking his hips, Crowley almost managed to dislodge Aziraphale. He only barely managed to catch himself with one hand on the back of the couch and one on Crowley’s shoulder.

“Darling love,” Aziraphale said, with their noses brushing and Crowley’s blown pupils a mere inch from his own. “I trust you.”

Even though Crowley whimpered, even though it transformed into a growl somewhere in the middle of his throat, and even though he cut that noise short with a convulsive swallow, Aziraphale felt his dick jump in his hand.

More slowly than before, somehow, Aziraphale crawled down Crowley’s body. He nosed at the dark red hair surrounding the base of Crowley’s cock, regretted not taking off more of his clothing (he was starting to feel rather sticky), then lapped at the head of his cock. Crowley’s hips bucked for entirely different reasons this time around.

“I trust you,” Aziraphale repeated once more. “No one else in the world has ever known me so completely. I don’t think they honestly could, at this point. I would happily give you all of me, love, and I know you would do the same.”

Gentle drags of his palm up Crowley’s cock, a sucking kiss just below his belly button, words the demon no doubt found filthier than any others Aziraphale had ever said.

“You have so much  _ goodness  _ in you, Crowley, and yet you inspire me to do such  _ wicked  _ things. I don’t think there’s another demon half as clever as you in this world, and I  _ know  _ there aren’t any angels. I admire you almost as much as you infuriate me, darling, and I can’t wait to see what wild and marvelous things you might think up next.”

Faster, now, just a bit. Crowley’s head was thrashing, his eyes were shut tight, but when Aziraphale glanced up he saw tears shining in those curled eyelashes and felt his heart clench tight. He squeezed with his hand, just a bit, and it wrung a wounded noise from Crowley’s throat. Pre-come was glistening at the head of his cock, matching the water on his face.

“I love you,” said Aziraphale. A truth they both knew, a truth he’d said a million times before. But he’d never followed it with, “You  _ deserve  _ that love, Crowley. You’ve earned it.”

Sobbing, Crowley came, shooting a stream of come over the jumping muscles of his abdomen. His legs kicked, but Aziraphale was sober enough by now to ride it out without much trouble, and by the time Crowley’s labored huffing through his nose calmed Aziraphale was already in the process of taking off his ball gag.

As soon as it was off Crowley sat up for a deep kiss. Aziraphale was quite amenable to that, as he still found himself with a rather significant erection trapped in his pants, but the way Crowley shook under his lips gave him pause.

He went to remove the cuffs, to free Crowley and hopefully ask how he was doing as soon as the kiss ended, but Crowley yanked his hands over Aziraphale’s neck, looping him in close. “Don’t talk,” he growled, just those two words, and then bit Aziraphale’s bottom lip.

Their kiss wound down rather quickly, however. And then they were mostly just pressed close, breathing in one another’s air, and Aziraphale decided he didn’t need to do anything for his own satisfaction, this time around. This was enough. Just this closeness, and his demon who couldn’t talk about feelings to save his life, and knowing that Aziraphale was still  _ someone’s  _ guardian angel, even if head office wasn’t too pleased with him at the moment.

“You’re insane, did you know that?” Crowley asked. “Trusting a demon.”

“Yes, well, they didn’t kick me out of heaven for nothing.”

“No, they didn’t, did they?” Crowley smiled, and Aziraphale leaned up to lick a tear from his cheek, and then Crowley was grabbing his hair and kissing him once more. It was nice. Aziraphale, in a word, loved it.

**Author's Note:**

> Written at the urging of the most wonderful @raphdoods on instagram, who is drawing the cutest Good Omens art these days <3 I hope you all enjoyed reading! If you wanna scream at me about ineffable husbands, you can find me on twitter @twitchingcorpse


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